


it might storm

by hundredamages



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Evan "Buck" Buckley, Jealous Evan "Buck" Buckley, M/M, They're so in love it hurts, Worried Eddie Diaz, emotional distress, i only know how to write angst, no beta we die like buck's heterosexuality when he put that puka shell necklace on, post 407, strong bond, they both need a good night of sleep, we love ana flores in this house
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 09:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29872527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hundredamages/pseuds/hundredamages
Summary: The thought crossed Eddie’s mind. Simple. Plain. Evident. It was almost too easy, too obvious, too laid out in the open for everybody to see. It was clear. But Buck had not asked him. He had not asked any of them. There must have been a reason why. A reason for the distant eyes. A reason for not even daring to ask to stay the night. Eddie sat there staring at him. It felt like Buck was miles away. In the soft light of the falling day, he looked like an illusion of the mind.Eddie didn’t say a word
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 279





	it might storm

**Author's Note:**

> i usually write poetry, so my writing style is heavy. like, very heavy. english is not my first language. this can become overwhelming to read. this shit will both leave you with a lovely feeling and punch you in the face.
> 
> you've been warned. have a good time

He was tired. Simply and genuinely tired. He had woken up with a headache, had tried to brush the uneasy feeling away. He was at home, in his own bed, in his own apartment. Usually, he woke up with the smell of belonging between these walls. Today, it all felt too different. Too foreign.

Buck didn’t like it here anymore.

When he had learned that Veronica was his neighbor, he felt his inside twist and his skin burn. He thought he was being dramatic. It was just a girl, nothing to completely lose your shit over, he had thought. But Buck had always been running after a home, after the feeling of being comfortable in his own skin, but in his own place too. His childhood house had always felt like a haunted place, a gloomy unwelcoming castle. It was nice, from the outside, white picket fence and all. But the screams and the broken bond between the souls that inhabited it had tainted it with horrendous colors. Tears painted the walls, and insomnia was written on the ceiling of his room. The air was heavy, the shower burned through his bones, the doors looked likes barricade he couldn’t cross.

Buck had never liked that house. He never felt at ease there. After leaving, finding his home was the deepest thing he was longing for. Peace and quiet, calm and tranquility. He wanted to brush-off the suffocation, the feeling of his chest too tight under his breath whenever he stepped into a place he tried to make his own. He had found it here. Or at least he thought. Veronica being in the building made his mind run a hundred miles an hour. Suddenly, the majestic windows of his apartment weren’t enough to prevent the air from being too heavy.

“I’m _fucking_ cursed.” he mumbled, his head buried in his pillow.

It wasn’t that he hated Veronica. He didn’t mind her, had nothing against her. But now that she was dating Albert, he knew she would be around, and that meant he had to witness them being all cheesy and shit, rubbing in his face the fact that he was desperately and genuinely alone. Not that he minded but seeing everybody gravitating around a significant other had started to make his head spin a little. Well, his head was always spinning a little, but that was different. Chim and Maddie, Bobby and Athena, Karen and Hen, Michael and David, even that one guy from the station who was always seen alone had brought a lovely lady around at the last big station dinner. That was _all great, very lovely_ he had thought. _They’re all happy and I am happy for them._

Deep down, he damn well knew what had made the turn tide. Because when Eddie told him, with a wishful look, that he had gone on a date with Ana, Buck felt his head crash and his hands burn. He simply answered with a soft _oh_ , before bracing himself and clapping his best friend on the shoulder.

“Well, good job champ. I’m glad to see you’re putting yourself back out there.” he had said, plastering a convincing encouraging smile on his face. Or so he hoped.

That had fucking stung, and he himself didn’t exactly knew why. Eddie was finally moving on. His heart was healing, and it seemed like his stars were realigning themselves just right.

It just felt too sudden, like a kick right into Buck’s stability. His balance was off, making his universe spin, and he wasn’t exactly sure if there was thunder outside or if the storm was raging only in his head. The result was a headache at 8am and the formidable need to sink into the floor.

“I _really_ am cursed.” he repeated, with a sorry laugh. He rose from his bed. The walls were too white, the ceiling too high. His mind was playing tag with his heart. Everything was upside down.

“You need coffee dude.” he mumbled to himself and made his way to the kitchen.

He was moving out. One way or another. A part of him felt childish for not wanting to witness Albert and Veronica’s relationship blossom, but the words of his therapist echoed in his brain and grounded him. _You have to try and put yourself first_. He suspected the feeling running along his spine to be something completely other than jealousy. It was a well-known one, buried deep into his skull. It was pieces of the past and long nights feeling uncomfortable in his own bed, when he was not old enough to ride a bike, that made their way back into his body. Oh, he knew this all too well. He needed to move out. It wasn’t a question.

He took a sip of coffee, trying to stabilize whatever was left of his not-so-stable inner peace. His balance was much needed, but it had fucked off completely. It was nowhere to be found. He sighed again and headed to the shower.

Today was going to be all lot.

“You look like shit.” was the first thing Buck heard while stepping into the station’s locker room.

He dropped his bag on the floor with as much elegance as a charging buffalo.

“Good morning to you too, Eddie.” he replied, with a distant tone. His head was still spinning, despite the aspirin he took and the breathing exercises he had done in the Jeep.

He felt the other body in the room tense up a little. Eddie wasn’t used to an off-balance Buck. Sure, he had seen the puppy eyes and low shoulders during the law-suit, had witnessed the tense jaw and clenched fists when his parents were in town, but this was different. There was no anger, nor sadness. It was almost like something had crawled under the boy’s skin and he was either trying to shake the feeling off or disappear into thin air. He was feeling uncomfortable.

Eddie frowned. “Well, something is definitely bothering you.”

His voice was calm, at a low level. He knew Buck was tremendously aware of the way people talked to him, of the tone they used or the way their phrases were worded. He figured it was due to his childhood and how he probably constantly tried to make no wave at home by analyzing his parents’ behavior. It was the result of damage control, this constant state of emotional awareness. Eddie didn’t want to be the wave hitting a little too hard.

“Yes, something is definitely bothering me.” Buck answered, his voice matching Eddie’s. He was adapting. He was mirroring the other man’s demeanor. It was probably unconscious, on Buck’s part, but Eddie noticed. He always noticed.

Eddie stepped closer, putting a hand on the locker where Buck was fumbling with something. He looked at his face for a moment, wordlessly trying to make sense of whatever inner turmoil was currently taking place in his brain. Eddie opened his mouth to speak but was stopped short in his tracks.

“I know what you’re gonna say. And no, thank you.” Buck sighed, closing his eyes just a little too long, maybe two seconds more than what was deemed normal. His head was hurting. Eddie noted the thought, _check on his pulse during the shift and bring him water so he doesn’t pass out on your or something_. Eddie noticed. He always noticed. He leaned back, his hand falling from the locker.

“You don’t wanna talk about it.” he answered, nodding slowly, accepting that it was no use to push. Buck would come to him if he felt like it. He was usually an easy talker, so this was new. He needed to apprehend it differently.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” was the answer falling from Buck’s lips, confirming Eddie’s words. He nodded again, a familiar weight building its way inside his stomach. Worry. Of course he worried. Eddie always worried.

“Well,” he didn’t even try to conceal the apprehension in his voice, “if you need me, you know where to find me.”

A tentative hand found its place on Buck’s back, and his shoulders eased up, taking some of Eddie’s worry away in the process. He knew Buck reacted well to physical touch. Either it was a simple hand on his shoulder or a warm embrace, it always seemed to have a calming effect on the man. He never pushed people’s hands away or refused a touch. Eddie had noticed, because he always noticed, just a few days into meeting Buck. Whenever they walked side by side, the blond was always leaning in, making their shoulders bump at every step. It had taken Eddie aback first, feeling like his personal space was being kicked to the goddamn floor without a second thought, but he got used to it easily. Having Buck in his personal space wasn’t really a choice. He was there whether Eddie wanted to or not. Not that he minded, or whatever.

Buck turned his head toward Eddie, a tired smile making its way on his face. It was small, but it was there.

“Thank you, Eds.” was heard and Buck closed his locker, signaling that it was time for Eddie to move his hand away. He did, after giving a squeeze on the other man’s shoulder assuring him once again that _yes, he was there, he was always there,_ and he was a gentle ear and compassionate listener.

Eddie wanted to help. He was a natural caregiver, single dad stuff and all that. He held his hand out to the universe, giving his reassuring words left and right like it was the easiest thing in the world. _Eddie the Wise_ , Chim had called him once, after hearing his monologue on the miraculous effects of meditating in the morning. This talk was the reason why Buck had started trying breathing exercises. Eddie had an easiness to him that made his words sound like salvation. Buck had caught himself multiple times thinking _What Would Eddie Do?_ when he felt like the noise were a little too loud and the frown between his brows a little too deep.

It wasn’t that Eddie was a role model, hell, the guy was far from perfect. But his words always made sense to Buck. They resonated easily with him. Any advice seemed like good advice. Eddie was good with people and marvelously good with words.

And Buck had noticed. Because he always noticed.

The shift was pretty boring. Some calls about the cliché cat stuck in a tree and a fake gas leak in a restaurant. They were on their way to minor car accident, and the truck had fallen into a comfortable silence, except for the soft sound of Chim humming whatever song he had heard on the radio while coming to work.

Buck was staring pointlessly through the window, his hand fumbling with his seatbelt. He needed to figure out where the hell he was gonna stay that night. He didn’t want to go back to his flat, his mind and body had made the message pretty fucking clear. Just the thought of the too high ceiling hurt his brain. Asking Bobby or Hen was off the table, and Maddie was pregnant with an over-sensitive Chim orbiting around her. No offense to them, but Buck didn’t want to step into the chaos of pre-parenthood. They had too much on their plate, and he wasn’t about to add three ladleful of childhood resentment and inner turmoil to the mix.

Asking Eddie had crossed his mind. But it felt wrong, for the first time in forever. Because Ana, because it wasn’t his place, because he wasn’t about to be the helpless single depressed best friend crying on his bro’s couch at 3 in the am. Buck didn’t want to bother, didn’t want to make waves, didn’t want to be _that_ person. Eddie had called him exhausting once, and that was carved in his brain. It wasn’t about to happen again.

Eddie’s eyes were on him, from time to time, flickering over his face, checking if the man wasn’t about to burst into tears or break the goddamn window. But it wasn’t that, and Eddie felt it just like this morning. It wasn’t sadness, or deep-rooted anger, it was something else. Something far from superficial, or just a passing feeling. It was deep and brutal and unsettling and nerve-wrecking for the both of them.

The art of silent communication had long been mastered between the two of them. Buck turned his head towards Eddie just as the latest was about to grab his knee. Eddie eyes held all the words in the world, and Buck simply nodded in return. Eddie titled his head a little, a slight frown visible on his face, and Buck shook his head a bit, waving his hand at him in a way of saying _don’t worry, it’s okay_. Eddie lips pressed together, and his knee locked place with Buck’s. A wordless way of reminding him that he was here, he was right here and putting both of them at ease.

Buck visibly relaxed and stopped fumbling with his seatbelt, his hands falling on his lap, grounding himself in the feeling of their knees together. It was almost nothing, but it was always enough. His balance had been off all night and morning, and the mere sense of stability this was providing made his head slow down.

They arrived at the scene of the crash and Buck was the first out of the truck. The officers already on the scenes informed them of the situation: no fatal injuries, it seemed. That was good, Buck thought. He wasn’t up to deal with tears and death today. As he started to walk, he felt fingers wrap around his wrist, carefully. The gesture was slow to prevent him from flinching. It didn’t stop him in his tracks, it was made to accompany him. If he hadn’t been focused he even might have missed it. It was delicate. And it was Eddie.

Buck shot him a questioning look, his shoulder mindlessly bumping with Eddie’s.

“Well pardon me but what on earth are you doing?” he asked coyly, letting out a little laugh as the other man walked alongside him, his fingers still wrapped around his wrist. Eddie raised their hands a little, a focused expression on his face. Buck frowned “Are you seriously checking my pulse?”

“I’m making sure you’re not gonna die on me or something.” Eddie replied in a concerned tone, his focused expression not leaving his face.

And it was as if rain had taken residence in Buck’s mind. Nothing close to the cold winter showers, taking you by surprised and leaving you trembling, sticking ice daggers into your skin. It was rain on a summer Sunday evening, after a day of sunlight and heavy sky. It was soft, and it was welcomed. Awaited, even. It made the world go quiet, releasing it from the suffocating heat of the never-ending summer days. It was tranquil and it was evident. It was Eddie.

“I’m not gonna die on you Eds. I wouldn’t dare leaving you heartbroken.” he replied, as Eddie slowly let go of his wrist. The rain stopped.

“Well, we can never be too careful”. Eddie handed him a bottle of water with his other hand, his eyes meeting Buck’s. There was no aggression or authority in it. Something else. Was it worry? “Here.”

Buck grabbed the bottle, stopping in his tracks as he did so. Eddie mirrored him instantly. Two halves of the same dance. It almost felt rehearsed, the way they always seemed to echo each other.

“I’m not gonna die on you.” Buck repeated, stressing every word. His eyes didn’t leave Eddie’s face. He wanted this to be engraved between the two of them. It was silent understanding. Eddie’s actions were responding to Buck’s demeanor, his aura from the day. Care and worry responding to despair and discomfort. It was usual, nothing surprising, seeing how dynamically coherent the two of them were. Nonetheless, Buck didn’t want to witness his rain starting a flood in the other man’s mind.

“I just-“ Eddie started, and trailed off, his eyes drifting away from Buck’s face as he searched for his words.

“I know.”

It was all he needed. Buck’s hand found its way on Eddie’s arm. Silence and touch.

The world always kept saying with certainty that Eddie was closed off, complicated, a riddle that never allowed itself to be solved. Buck had never found himself in any struggle when it came to picking the pieces from the floor and building the puzzle of Eddie’s mind. He had never believed the other man to be anything but an intricate route of unpacked feelings that he navigated easily.

He knew all about grabbing emotions and pushing them into the depths of nothingness. He had done it for the entirety of his childhood. He could see Eddie’s entire nerve system working itself to death in order to sort out the shit he felt most of the time. Contrary to what people seemed to believe, Eddie felt way too much, that was something Buck had figured early on in their friendship. He felt way too loudly, way too strongly, way to intensely, and that was why he had immense control over it. He had learned to tone it down, to turn the noise to a low whisper. It was basic survival instincts. It was his guts telling him to protect himself from himself. Be the hunter, not the prey.

Buck had walked in his life and shattered it all.

They got to work, started to evacuate people from cars and check vitals. Hen and Chim worked fast, mirroring each other. Buck and Eddie worked on sync, repeating a well-known choreography. Bobby was always around, supervising, helping, tracing directions. It was marvelous to witness, the way each of them was a single element of a greater scheme. Take one of them out and it all comes crashing down. They allowed each other to stand, creating an equilibrium that saved lives and stopped fire.

The ride back to the station was good. Funny, even. The day had passed rather slowly, extending like a never-ending mission. They were all tired, and their brains didn’t make sense anymore. Chim was telling a story about how he once almost got bitten in the ass by a snake while hiking with Albert on a day off, but magically escaped. Nobody believed him.

“It’s true! My quick feet saved me. I dodged that evil creature thanks to my majestic skills.” he waved his brows, making Hen snort.

“Humor me, that snake saw your ass and thought it wasn’t worth the effort.” she replied, lowering her glasses, winning a laugh from both Buck and Eddie. Bobby smiled too, keeping his eyes on the road.

Chim put a hand on his chest, feigning shock “My ego and pride, Hen. They need to be cherished,” he answered, popping a bubble from his gum “Plus if you don’t believe me, you should ask Albert. He was there. That bastard saw it all. I think he even took pictures.”

Chim turned to Buck, sitting next to him, on the other side of the truck. “Buck, you’ll ask him when you see him tonight. And try to steal that fucker’s phone and send me the evidence, then delete it. I don’t want him to have blackmail material on me.”

Hen laughed again, alongside Eddie, but Buck fell into a strange state of half-laughter, half-choking on his own throat. Eddie frowned, feeling the change of behavior deep in his bones.

The blond let the side of his head rest on the window “Yeah, well, I don’t think I’ll be seeing your bro anytime soon, Chim.” Buck stated, raising his shoulders and dropping them heavily.

Chim raised an eyebrow, and Eddie titled his head again, noting the things passing through Buck’s eyes. He was usually an open book. Something had shifted.

"You can ask his new girlfriend instead,” Buck added, turning his face towards the window. “Though I probably shouldn’t be telling you that.”

Chim shot Eddie a questioning look, who simply shook his head. He had no idea what Buck was talking about.

“He has a girlfriend? That fucker keeps keeping secrets from me I swear.” Chim said desperately, throwing his hands in the air in sign of exasperation.

Eddie’s eyes were still on Buck, not missing a second of whatever brainwork he was trying to achieve. The other man was still staring through the window, aimlessly.

“So what he’s moving out or something? That’s pretty sudden.” Hen asked, crossing her arms on her chest accusingly. She wasn’t about to judge. But she was, though.

Buck sighed, shaking his head slowly, and locked his knee with Eddie, just as they had done on their way to the car crash. He let his finger run through his own hair. He regained his balance there and then, grounding himself with the simple thought of his friend being here.

“No. I am.” was all he said before turning his head, his eyes on Eddie for a split second before landing on Hen. Eddie noticed. He always noticed.

They were all taken aback, confusion settling in the truck. Buck wasn’t about to elaborate, Eddie knew that. But his relentless friends weren’t gonna let this slip through.

“Wait are they fucking kicking you out? This is a joke right?” Chim said, his eyes doubling size, looking like a concerned parent about to reprimand his child. Buck frowned, trying to register the words of his friend before answering.

“What? No, no no no absolutely not. They’re not. Don’t go murdering them or something,” he tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Eddie felt like the sky was hanging lower than usual “I’m just- I don’t know. I’m just-“

Buck closed his eyes, his thoughts distinctly weighting suddenly a bit much. He rubbed a hand on his face, trying to ease his tense jaw and pinched lips. It didn’t work.

Eddie was silent, his mind working itself to exhaustion with the little information he had. He wasn’t about to push for more if Hen and Chim weren’t. He wanted to, of course, but he knew better. Under layers of open feelings, Buck had entire shelves of unread emotions. They weren’t all laid out in the open for everybody to see. And Eddie certainly didn’t have the pretension that he had Buck all figured out. Nobody did, not even Buck himself. But there was something in the way he stood all day, in the uneasy step he took, in his shoulders wore lower than usual and his brows knitted closer than yesterday, that made Eddie’s brain double the work.

The words were out in the open before he could compose himself. “It’s Veronica.” Eddie let out. It slipped the barricade of his lips.

Buck blinked, his knee suddenly leaving the side of Eddie’s. Confusion and what seemed like tiredness flooded his facial features. Eddie had shot his bullet into the right target without even realizing it. And now Buck was losing attitude right in front of him.

“How did you-“ Hen started, but stopped herself when Chim spoke.

“It’s Eddie the Wise, Hen. Of course he knows.”

Chim’s playful tone made Eddie’s heart skip a beat, but he paid it no mind, his entire soul focusing on the man in front of him.

“Is that why you’re moving out? Because they’re together?” he asked. His upper body felt restricted by the seatbelt. It felt uncomfortable, sitting there in his own skin. He wanted to reach out. It was magnetic and out of his control. And there was nothing to be done about it.

Buck felt the three pairs of eyes staring at him, seeing through him. Most of the time, he enjoyed being easy to read. He knew his emotions were often on display for the entire goddamn world to see and it was the least of his worries. He had never been ashamed to feel, to embrace whatever way his head and heart decided to go. But sitting there, knowing _why_ and _what_ went on in his mind, he felt naked. It was too personal. It hit too close to home.

“No. I’m moving out because I don’t like it there anymore. It’s too-“ Buck trailed off, looking at his fingers on his lap, hoping for the words to magically appear on his skin. They didn’t.

“Unfamiliar?” Eddie asked, his voice careful, tone low and steady.

Buck nodded, looking up and finding the other man’s eyes, soundless gratefulness settling between the two of them. Eddie always made things easier to grasp.

“Unfamiliar.” he confirmed.

“Where are you going to stay?” Bobby’s voice through the headset surprised the four of them. It was calm, but a note of worry was detectable. Of course he worried. They all worried for Buck. Caring for such a bright soul was the easiest thing in the world.

“I don’t know,” he answered, shrugging. “I might just- Well- I don’t know,” He laughed and Eddie was underwater “I‘ll figure something out. But I won’t- I can’t go back.”

The thought crossed Eddie’s mind. Simple. Plain. Evident. It was almost too easy, too obvious, too laid out in the open for everybody to see. It was clear. But Buck had not asked him. He had not asked any of them. There must have been a reason why. A reason for the distant eyes. A reason for not even daring to ask to stay the night. Eddie sat there staring at him. It felt like Buck was miles away. In the soft light of the falling day, he looked like an illusion of the mind.

Eddie didn’t say a word.

Eddie had felt emotionally unavailable for the major part of his life. He found himself standing often on the verge of _almost_. He _almost_ said it, he _almost_ felt it, he _almost_ asked, he _almost_ dared. That line seemed like a simple step for some. To him, it was free-fall. It wasn’t the feeling of gravity pulling him to his downfall that frightened him. It was the landing, the impact. It was the crash, the break, the blood, tears and gold.

And he had been standing on the edge ever since he had first met Buck. He could swear, sometimes, that the ground was about to give in under his feet. It was like tripping when a hand lingered too long, or eyes looked a little too hard. It was a nosedive, lurking around the corner, brutal. A collapse into something unspoken hanging between their bodies. He wanted to close his eyes. His mind was playing tricks on him. It had to be. Because the things he believed he saw, sometimes, in the other man’s eyes, raw and honest, scared him to death. A single tumble and his bones would break. His demise. A landing he couldn’t control.

Crashing and burning was the only option.

He didn’t say a word. It wasn’t time to fall.

Back at the station, it was quiet. Almost too quiet. Eddie was the first in the locker room, Buck at his heels. They were exhausted. Eddie’s felt like the weight of the world had been forced upon his shoulders. It was concerning, considering the day had not been extreme. Just your usual random day as a firefighter. He had figured it was a response to whatever was going on in Buck’s brain, a mirror to the other man’s body. He felt heavy, and Buck had worn his shoulders low all day. It was no coincidence. Despair had won over them both.

“You tire me.” Eddie let out, without even thinking twice. The words caught with his brain a second too late.

Fuck.

 _Fuck_.

“What?”

He turned towards Buck fast and was met with a pair of pained eyes. Fuck. _No_. That wasn’t what he meant. Buck had to know that wasn’t what he meant.

The fall was near. Eddie was standing on the edge.

“No. No. Not like-“ he started, losing the rhythm of whatever was left of his heart. Buck took a step back, then another.

Eddie was losing attitude.

“No, Evs not like that.” Eddie’s voice was a mess of worry and panic. His brain was too slow. His body did the talking. He grabbed Buck’s wrist fast, but carefully, the same way he had done before.

The rain in Buck’s mind started again. It was a winter shower. Summer was over and done with.

“Like what, then?” he asked, and the tone in his voice made the world go quiet, ruthlessly “Because that was pretty fucking clear to me.”

He was hurt. And he was lost. And for a second there, he was all alone. _Because you’re exhausting_ was echoing in his head. Eddie’s hand on his wrist was the only thing reminding him of his two feet anchored in the ground. He didn’t try to fight him off.

Eddie rubbed his face with his free hand, trying to compose himself. His fingers didn’t leave Buck’s wrist, and he unconsciously counted his pulse.

One. Two. Three.

Eddie could see the ground approaching. Too fast. The landing was gonna hurt.

“Whatever is going on in that brain of yours, I can _feel_ it,” Eddie let out, finding the other pair of eyes. His grip on Buck’s wrist became his focal point “It’s like my body has been trying to compensate all day.”

Buck vividly relaxed in front of him, but confusion inhabited his face. It was a clue for Eddie to go on. Silent understanding was one thing, but their common balance had been off all day long. Touches and looks could fuck off this time.

“I don’t know. Your problems are my problems, I guess. At least, that’s what my sore muscles want to make me understand.” Eddie added, his tone lighter than before as Buck seemed to ease up before him.

Buck let out a sigh, taking a step back to sit on the bench, freeing his wrist from Eddie’s cautious grip in the process. He felt guilt sliding down his throat. It was stupid, he knew, but he didn’t like being a burden. And right now, he surely felt like one.

“Eds, I don’t want you to worry.”

He looked up at the other guy. He was trying to make himself small. Eddie hated it.

“Well, it’s a little late for that.” Eddie answered, and lowered himself on the bench next to Buck, one leg on each side so he would be facing him.

Eddie leaned in, just a little, just enough to fill some of the never-ending space between them. You could almost miss it. Buck didn’t.

“Talk to me.” he tried, his tone encouraging. He didn’t want to have to push, and always let Buck come to him first. But the uneasiness of the day threw any caution to the wind.

Buck's chin fell to his chest, his eyes closing in the process. His elbows found his own knees, and his head settled in his own hands. He was tired. His head still hurt. And Eddie at his side turned the world upside down. It was a usually pleasant warmth that inhabited him when Eddie was around. That day, it felt unstable.

They stayed a moment like that, crushed under the weight of a silence too loud to enjoy. Buck staring at the ground with his head in his hands, desperately trying to form sentences in his brain. And Eddie, still standing on the edge, waiting for the fall.

And the ground gave in.

Hard.

Unexpected.

“I am so _fucking_ alone.”

Because all came down to this, in the end. Whatever he tried to do, Buck ended up being left behind. And today, it all felt a little too much. He could usually cope, with humor mostly. Lately, his own psyche had caught up with the feeling. He didn’t laugh at himself the way he used to. He was faced with shadows he wanted to erase.

“I am so fucking alone, and I hate to say it but nobody else is. That’s the thing, Eddie,” he let out a sigh, staring at the ground like at his mortal enemy “I wake up and I see Maddie with Chim, and I see Hen with Karen, and I think about Bobby and Athena. And it’s great. It’s all sunshine and fucking butterflies” Buck tried to compose himself, and miserably failed.

If Eddie could have butchered the world right there and then, he would have.

“Buck-“ he tried, but was cut short. The other boy wasn’t even listening. His mind was a flood.

“I try to tell myself come on Buck, get back out there, try to date! Who knows? Maybe it’s your time to shine again,” He laughed, bitterly. There was nothing funny about feeling like the butt of a bad joke, pulled by the fucking astral plane itself, “So I try. I try and I try. And what do I get instead? Absolute shit. And a failed date getting railed by my roommate in the apartment next to mine.”

Eddie knew the feeling of being left behind. The constant, overwhelming crushing fear of loneliness. The never-ending reminder that your best is someone else’s normal, and that there is always somebody better out there. He knew it all too well. And his heart was drowning with the mere knowledge that Buck knew it too.

He reached out, his hand about to find its place on Buck’s back.

“And then, you-“

Eddie's hand froze mid-way. The collapse was inevitable. He was free falling and Buck was gravity. Ruthless and brutal. He had stopped himself from speaking, from letting the words break whatever balance they had left. In his heart, deep down, Eddie already knew.

“And then I what, Buck.”

There was no going back.

“And then you started dating Ana. And that, that was just-“ Buck let his left hand grab a handful of his own hair, in distress. Eddie’s heart was in his throat. Chaos didn’t even cover it. It was pain and it was dark and it was walking under the pouring sky, heavy thunder filling your ears and a storm coming your way. Escaping wasn’t on the table. Being trapped felt too convenient. Eddie had put himself there willingly. That was on him and him alone. He had stumbled upon inexplainable truths and unwanted realizations on his own. It was simply time for the both of them to settle the score.

“I feel like I’m losing you, Eddie. And Christopher.” Buck raw honesty set Eddie’s mind on fire.

Now _that_ , that was fucked up to no end, and Eddie jaw tensed up. Rage wasn’t uncommon for the Diaz boy. He knew it well. Nonetheless, this anger was different, deeper and wider and greater, reaching something foreign in Eddie’s core.

“Shut the fuck up,” he let out, harder than he wished. Buck head stood up instantly, and he stared at Eddie in disbelief. Well, that was definitely new. “You’re not losing Chris and you’re certainly NOT losing me. Have you met me?” Eddie pointed as his own chest, his eyes searching Buck’s face “I wouldn’t survive a day if it wasn’t for you.”

Buck stared at Eddie, lost in a profound quietness, for a while, his eyes tracing the line of his nose, lips, and the delicate pattern of his skin. He was beautiful, even when angry. A raw beauty that was impossible to miss. It was an accepted fact, that Eddie was pretty, that Eddie was Eddie and Eddie was lovely. To Buck, this beauty had been a nightmare from day one. He couldn’t escape it. It made his skin crawl with things he didn’t dare to dwell on. He tore his eyes away.

“Do you hear what I say? You’re not losing us.” Eddie repeated, trying to find Buck’s eyes.

Buck shook his head slowly. He was too far gone for Eddie to reach. Words were close to meaningless.

"Eddie you’re with her now. I can’t except you to just- let me come unannounced at your place on Sunday mornings.” Buck averted Eddie’s eyes, and he stood up suddenly, his skin starting to sting. Being close to Eddie was making him lose solid grounds. He needed to breathe.

Eddie frowned and shook his head with force, standing up to grab his arm. “The hell you can’t. She’s never even been to my place. Buck-“ he put a hand on the other man’s chest, as the latest tried to push past him. Eddie wasn’t about to drop it “Evs just fucking listen. Just listen.”

Buck’s back found the lockers. He was tired and he was heavy, and his body felt like a mine field. Eddie took a step back unconsciously, giving him room to breathe. Even in the midst of chaos, they worked in sync.

And Eddie was ashamed. And angry and sorry and mad at himself for being such an _almost_. For not daring and never saying it. For seeing that Buck wasn’t well all day, and never linking it to Ana and him. Eddie knew this was a factor for whatever raging storm had taken his dearest friend hostage. He hated it. And he hated Buck for not saying anything.

But how could he, right? Buck was a bright soul. A soft heart and lovely words were his greatest weapons. He never would have dared speaking ill of Ana, or her relationship with Eddie. He never would have dared. Even when seeing them together was like a headshot, taking him down, making him burn with sorrow and shameful jealousy. Eddie felt like shit.

“This won’t change anything. Me and her being together won’t change anything,” Eddie stated, and begged his mind to stay on the safest track “You. Me. That’s unbreakable material, Evs.”

Buck let the back of his head rest on the lockers behind him, and his eyes found the ceiling. Eddie knew it, whatever he could have said was not gonna reach the boy in front of him at this very moment. He was somewhere else, drifting into memories and navigating unwanted feelings. Eddie knew because Eddie _felt_. He felt it all. It was almost unbearable.

Buck was still staring at the ceiling. Collecting his thoughts was an important task at hand, and he was trying his very best to succeed.

“Being around you and Chris 24/7, it’s just- it’s not possible anymore. I don’t wanna fucking look like a helpless guy to her or anybody else, Eds!” Buck spoke fast, his brain racing his tongue.

“Is that why you didn’t ask if you could crash at my place tonight? Because you’re scared of what _she_ could think of _you_?” Eddie was alarmed. This surely couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t happening.

“I guess it played a part in it, yeah.” Buck shrugged, still staring at the ceiling, a hint of exasperation in his voice. He was beginning to feel exhausted. Talking feelings with Eddie Diaz was never an easy task. He sure as hell knew it now, more than ever.

And the stubborn asshole was not letting it go.

“This is major bullshit,” Eddie laughed, his bitterness poorly hidden “Are you so far up your own ass you can’t even see that I don’t care about what she thinks of you?”

Eddie was gesturing pointlessly. At himself, at Buck, at the air and void and emptiness around him. He was starting to feel helpless, and it showed.

Buck didn’t like the tone of this conversation anymore. He didn’t like how uneasy he felt. Surely, he wasn’t gonna back away, but he wished that it would have been easier. It was usually so much easier. But the Ana subject was a rather touchy one. Not only for Buck, but for Eddie too, surprisingly. They didn’t want to dwell on what that meant.

“Well I care, for once. Sorry I can’t just brush off whatever the fuck people think of me the way you do. I’m not a dick like that. I value people’s opinions.” he said, his eyes leaving the ceiling and landing on Eddie.

And if Buck wanted a fight, he was going to find one.

“Well now that’s just rich,” Eddie spat, being hit right in his core. He crossed his arms on his chest, protecting both himself and Buck with the gesture. He was containing his anger mixing dangerously with whatever ran through him when Buck was around. Buck was always around “Being called a dick for not giving a shit about what she thinks of you. That’s a new low.”

“That’s not what I said.” Buck fought back, his back leaving the lockers.

“That’s exactly what you said.” Eddie counter attacked with ease.

This was leading nowhere and they both knew it.

“I want her to like me because if she doesn’t then I’m totally fucked.” Buck threw his hands in the air in resignation. He was going down a dangerous path.

“If she doesn’t like you then _she’s_ the one who’s fucked. Cause she can fuck right off.” Eddie blurted out, his breath catching in his throat. He was standing his ground with confidence but crumbling inside. The wildfire was spreading.

Buck allowed Eddie’s words to finally reach him. _If she doesn’t like you then she’s the one who’s fucked_. For a moment there, Buck wasn’t all alone anymore. It wasn’t hope, but it was close to it. He stared at Eddie questioningly. What the hell was he supposed to understand from _that_?

The air around them lifted slowly. The rain in Buck’s mind was starting to stop. Only the soft smell of wet concrete remained. It was quiet.

“Buck,” Eddie’s hand found his way home, landing on Buck’s shoulder “You’re my best part, pal. I’m not letting anything ruin that.”

And Eddie meant well, Buck knew it, and wanted to believe that even if Eddie was dating Ana, this wasn’t the end of them, the end of reassuring looks and silent communication. That he wasn’t about to lose the only constant he seemed to have in his life. Eddie wanted to make sure of that. And maybe it was selfish but for once in his life, Buck wanted things to go on, to flow easily the way they always had, because it made his own head rest easy. He loved Christopher and he loved Eddie, deeper and wider that he could ever perfectly comprehend. He knew whatever that was, the knot in his guts and the soft wind in his heart, it could move mountains and reign over galaxies. Letting go of it, of the feeling of tranquility, that was far more frightening than death itself. He would have rather died than see it all burst into flames.

He tried to believe Eddie. He wanted the words to sound like a truth. It was all wrong. Because Ana. It was always Ana.

“Thank you, Eds.” was all he managed to say, lying through his teeth, a tired smile fighting its way to his face.

“And you’re staying at my place tonight,” Eddie added, his hands finding Buck’s neck in a mindless gesture. Well. That was definitely new “It’s not a choice, it’s an order.”

Eddie’s hand fell to his side, and he made his way to his locker, grabbing his bag on the way. He didn’t even seem flustered in the slightest.

Buck was melting inside. His neck was burning, and he felt like the sun was radiating from his throat. He tried to salvage whatever was left of his dignity. Eddie could ruin him with a brush of his fingers. That wasn’t good. That was terrible.

He was cursed, wasn’t he? He had said it to his pillow this morning. Confirmation wasn’t needed, but it had been slammed in his face. Courtesy of Eddie fucking Diaz and his stars aligning just right to send astral retribution Buck’s way.

He let out a sigh, long and deep, releasing the pressure he half realized he was holding in, and started gathering his stuff.

“BUCK!” was the first thing he heard as he stepped easily into Eddie’s house, the familiar joyful tone of Christopher making him relax.

“Hi buddy!” he replied, his tone matching Chris’ as the kid crashed into his leg, wrapping his arms around Buck. The pure genuineness radiating from the embrace filled the air with a lovely feeling. The tiredness of the day seemed to evaporate.

Eddie closed the door behind them, eyeing the scene, a quiet smile finding its way to his lips. He had always felt grateful for the way Chris had so naturally accepted Buck into their life. He knew change could feel brutal and unwelcoming for his son. But Chris had let him settle in his little world with ease, blind and evident trust building a unique bond between the two of them.

“Come on now, Buck gets all the attention and I don’t even get one hug?” Eddie feigned being hurt, and Chris laughter echoed between the walls.

“I think he likes me better.” Buck whispered, leaning into Eddie’s side, as Chris raised his arms towards his dad.

“You wish.” Eddie winked, making a warm wind blow on Buck’s skin, while grabbing his son and holding him close to his chest in a delicate embrace.

“I missed you mijo.” He pressed a soft kiss on his forehead, before letting go, just as Christopher started talking about his day with an enthusiasm known only to him.

And it struck Buck, the way the kid had not asked what he was doing here. He didn’t even question it. He had been received with laughter and a hug, with care and joy. As soon as he walked in, the uneasiness of the day was like a distant memory. His balance was right there, carved into Christopher’s fast spoken words and Eddie’s attentive look fixed on his son.

Carla wished them goodnight after filling both of them in on what wonderful Lego creation Christopher had built during the day. Some Star Wars stuff Buck was kinda obsessed with. He didn’t even try to hide it, high-fiving Christopher and congratulating him on his immaculate taste. “That’s my little man” had slipped through his lips, and Eddie caught himself rolling his eyes, having no idea what they were talking about. The atmosphere was pleasant. Everything felt easy.

Chris was sitting at the kitchen table, doodling something that looked vaguely inspired from a science fiction movie on a white paper sheet, still talking about his day, his mind going a hundred miles an hour. Buck was sitting next to him, his eyes following the movements of the pen. He was listening attentively, making comments now and then, in a playful tone that made Chris nod and built the conversation between them easily. It was always the greatest feeling for Buck to be trusted with Christopher’s world.

Eddie was mindlessly cooking dinner for the three of them. He had had to push Buck away from the counter three times, who kept arguing that cooking was the least he could do to thank Eddie for letting him crash here. Eddie wasn’t having it, and he wanted Buck to let go, and let Eddie take care of whatever task was at hand, for once. He wasn’t the best cook, Chris had made it pretty clear, but he could prepare a mean homemade lasagna, and that was what he was going for.

Buck couldn’t help it. His eyes were drifting from time to time from Chris’ drawing and landing on Eddie fighting with a can opener, or setting up a timer, or extending his arm to reach for a spoon. Buck was aware of Eddie’s every move. He didn’t really have a say in the matter, it was what it was. Since day one, it seemed that he was doomed to _know_ , whether he wished to or not. Know what Eddie’s hands were doing, how his body was standing, how his hair was styled. Did he put gel in his hair today or did he let it curl naturally? Buck always knew. He had blamed it on the job first, considering he had to be hyper aware of Eddie in order for them to work perfectly together. Pulling people out of fire required a great deal of synchronization. It had to be for the job. It was probably the job.

Buck changed his mind when he started noticing patterns on Eddie’s skin, or the way he twisted his lips when he was thinking. That wasn’t the job. He wasn’t sure it had been the job to begin with. This level of _knowing_ , of being constantly aware, of noticing, that was far beyond professional synchronization for the sake of saving lives. It was deeper and wider. Buck wasn’t sure it was wise to wander into it. What he was sure of was that Eddie was cooking dinner and it smelled good, and he looked like the embodiment of home, and his hair was natural, just like Buck loved it best, and was it normal to have a clear preference regarding the way your friend was styling his hair?

“You look sad.”

Chris words brought Buck back to earth, and Eddie’s eyes met his at the sound of his son’s voice. It was like Buck had been caught red-handed and he felt that his head was beating the shit out his heart. Eddie eyes went from him to Chris, assessing the situation, determining whether or not damage control was needed, and a surge of worry suddenly flooded the man’s face.

 _Shit_.

Did Buck really look that sad?

He blinked, his focus returning to Chris staring at him from over his drawing, patiently waiting. He had not asked Buck a question. It was factual. Chris thought he looked sad. And he was looking at him with a hint of compassion in his eyes.

Buck composed himself and smiled softly, a half-awkward laugh leaving his throat. He didn’t like that Chris thought that of him. He didn’t want him, of all people, to worry. The thought alone was breaking his bones. He knew their bond was eternal since the tsunami, and that it was a two-way street: Buck cared about Chris and Chris cared about Buck. But he was the adult here. Worrying was his job, not Chris’.

He shook his head softly, ruffling Chris’ hair with his right hand. “I’m not sad kid, I’m just tired. Don’t worry about it.”

He was trying to control the situation, knowing that Chris’ emotions could be intense. He didn’t want anything to hit too hard. Chris settled his pen on the table and looked at his dad for a second, before bringing his attention back to Buck. He was not about to drop it so easily.

"You seem sad when Dad is not looking.”

And _damn_. The kid was good.

Buck face turned a soft shade of pink, upside down, his eyes doubling size, and a loud noise was heard where Eddie was standing. He had dropped the spoon he was holding, whispering a low _shit_ while picking it up from the floor.

Damage control. Now or never.

Buck wriggled uncomfortably in his chair, trying to find his words.

“No kid, it’s not that. It’s fine. Your dad and I had a long day and I’m really just tired.” Buck answered, tentatively, his voice totally betraying the shit show that was going on in his mind.

“Buck I really don’t like it when you’re sad.” Chris was fighting back a sigh, his eyes lowering themselves from where they were fixed.

Eddie stepped in. Because he had to and because he cared. Because he knew that Buck was indeed sad, that his son had seen it too, because the kid was cursed with the ability to read people and insane observation skills. They had faced the wrath of the ocean together, and that alone had linked them in a way Eddie tried his best to understand, and that he could never fully comprehend. And he knew it was no use lying to Chris about what was going on, about Buck. The kid probably had figured all of it out.

“You know mijo,” Eddie pulled a chair, and sat across from his son, shooting Buck a reassuring look. He was saying _I got this_ wordlessly “sometimes, something can upset you really really bad, but you don’t know what it is. It makes you a little sad and tired. Remember that time you cried all day at abuela’s and you couldn’t even figure out why?”

Chris nodded slowly, listening to his father attentively, his brows knitted close together.

“In the morning, when you woke up, you were all happy and you didn’t even remember it. You just needed a good night of sleep and you were ready to go!” Eddie added, his tone lighter, winning a smile from his son, and another nod of his head. Buck felt blessed with divine mercy.

“Well that’s what’s going on with Buck,” Eddie’s eyes landed on the other man “his heart hurts a little but he doesn’t really know why. He just needs to sleep.”

If Buck could have burned down the whole world for Eddie, he would have.

Chris picked up his pen, and turned towards Buck, a thought definitely making its way into his brain “You can sleep in my bed so when you wake up tomorrow you’ll be happy like me!”

And fuck, that kid was a national treasure. His heart was in the right place, courtesy of Eddie Diaz raising the little guy. Buck felt saved and safe in a singular way. He laughed slowly, ruffling his hair again.

“I think I’m a little too big for your bed, buddy. But thank you, that’s a really nice offer.” Buck answered.

His eyes found Eddie’s, still stuck on him. His lips were pressed in a line, his hands linked together in a prayer position, pressing to his mouth, his elbows on the table. Worry with a capital W, rhymes with _Evan Buckley you’re totally fucked_. A silent agreement was made between the two of them. They would talk about this later. Buck simply nodded in return.

They ate dinner, Chris doing everything in his power to cheer Buck up, making jokes and being all bubbly. Eddie kept telling him to sit still while eating, his voice conveying very little persuasion, as he was almost dying of laughter at the way Chris was trying to entertain both of them. Buck was almost choking on a mouthful of lasagna, gesturing for Eddie to pass him the water. Chris was being ridiculous, and quite frankly, he was saving Buck from his own inner turmoil. The kid was mischievous, for the greatest pleasure of the two men. He made the air feel lighter. Nothing mattered anymore because Chris made the world align with his own demeanor. A portion of sun was trapped in this kid’s soul, Buck was absolutely sure of it.

They played video games for a while, after bargaining with Eddie and assuring him again that no, there was no Russian spy digging information on them through the Nintendo Switch. Chris and Buck were in the middle of an epic Super Smash Bros battle, jokingly pushing each other with their shoulders. _You’re cheating_ and _no i’m not_ and _yes you are_ were resonating in the living room. They were laughing along, when Eddie’ phone rang. Buck’s gazed drifted from the TV and landed on him, giving just enough time for Chris to land a fatal blow.

“GOT YOU!” he laughed, pushing Buck again.

Eddie looked at his phone, his expression shifting instantly, and he stood up, excusing himself, gesturing towards the two of them to start another game. His stare found Buck’s eyes for a split second, and then met the ground.

Buck’s gaze followed him as he walked to his room, raising the phone to his ear. Buck wasn’t going to listen. It was none of his business. Right. _Yes_. It wasn’t. And Chris was already starting another game. Buck willingly ignored the uneasy feeling settling in his guts again and focused on the TV instead.

Needless to say, Chris put him to shame, winning easily against an all too distracted Buck. They laughed again, Buck raising his hands in defeat.

“Alright alright okay, you’re way better than me at this!” he admitted, high-fiving Chris in the process.

Eddie came back to the living room, shoulders wore low, and a distant expression badly concealed. Buck noticed. His guts told him to run, for some reasons, fight or flight reflexes activating for a second.

“Alright little man, time for bed.” Eddie announced, turning the TV off, putting on his father face to push away the self-consciousness that had irresistibly washed over his mind.

Chris didn’t object, knowing it was probably no use, and wished Buck goodnight. Before living the room, he turned around, a worried expression washing over him. 

“Will you be there tomorrow when I wake up?” Christopher asked, his tone a mixture of hope and worry.

Buck gave him his brightest smile, because the kid cared so much it was almost unbelievable.

“Of course buddy,” Buck said, eyeing Eddie standing in the background, his heavy eyes fixed on his son, “I’ll even make pancakes.”

Chris laughed at the thought, walking back to the couch, giving Buck a warm embrace.

“I love you Buck. Don’t be sad.” he whispered, leaning back, ruffling Buck’s hair the same way Buck had done with his.

Buck could swear his heart was fighting his throat. He felt like crying, he felt like screaming. Because the kid was kind, warm-hearted, and he couldn’t help but feel like he didn’t deserve him.

“I won’t be tomorrow, I promise. I love you too, kid,” he pressed a kiss on Chris’ forehead, his eyes landing on Eddie, who was staring at the scene, an unreadable expression on his face “Now go to bed before your dad kills us both.”

Chris gave buck another hug before turning around and following his father.

Buck was left alone in the living room, and suddenly his hands felt useless. He knew whatever call Eddie had received wasn’t an enjoyable one. It surprised him once again how easily he had picked up on the behavior change of his friend. It confirmed that whatever it was, that hyper awareness of Eddie, the constant state of _knowing_ , it wasn’t to blame on the job.

Buck rose from the couch, feeling the need to do something, to occupy his hands for the minutes to come. He went to the kitchen and assessed the room before him. The sink was full. He could take care of that. He started washing dishes, trying not to dread the talk that was inevitably about to happen.

It was not that he was scared of Eddie. He wasn’t, he had never been. But a misstep was always so close, always tempting, always pressing. It was easy for his thoughts to dream of soft skin and light kisses, of sleepless nights laying against the one he had always so naturally called _friend_. How many times he had caught himself thinking of _what is_ and _what could be_ , that he had lost count of. Eddie had been a constant in his brain from the second he had walked into his life, shattering his bones with the biggest lack of delicacy known to man. He had grabbed Buck’s already too fragile stability and burned it to the ground. He had settled under his skin.

Buck knew there was no fighting it, because oh, how he had tried. He had tried with the force of his entire soul, because Eddie was great and Eddie was bright but Eddie wasn’t his, Eddie didn’t want this and Eddie wasn’t interested, Eddie was straight and Eddie was taken. Eddie Eddie Eddie. What a nice name it is, Buck thought once. What a lovely name for such a lovely man.

And it wasn’t fair that the lovely man was out of reach, that he was kissing a lovely woman, and that Buck’s lovely heart felt like giving up on him. That it felt sick with helpless jealousy paired with resignation. That wasn’t remotely close to lovely.

“I’m fucking cursed.” Buck mumbled, for the third time today, his shoulders sinking low, as he stopped the water.

“What?”

His heart dropped six floors. He really was cursed.

He turned around just as Eddie settled against the counter, frowning, gesturing mindlessly towards him for a bottle of water next to him. Buck handed it over, his brain losing connection with the rest of his body.

“Nothing. I’m talking to myself.” Buck answered in a rush, brushing the question off with a move of his hand in the air.

Eddie gave him a questioning look. He wasn’t about to push, but he couldn’t be fooled. He took a sip of water, and handed the bottle back to Buck, who emptied the rest of it in long gulps. He had not realized how thirsty he was. Eddie noticed. Because Eddie always noticed.

“You should drink more, I feel like I’m telling you this every day.” Eddie said, his arms crossing on his chest. His eyes scrutinized Buck’s face shamelessly. It was as if he stared at his fucking soul and Buck hated it.

“Yeah whatever, _mom_.” Buck joked, rolling his eyes before putting both his hands at his sides, grabbing the edge of the sink behind him. He gave himself some support. He was gonna need it.

Eddie was assessing the situation. He knew whatever route he chose to take would lead to the same chaotic destination. The disastrous landing was inevitable. He could always try to control the fall.

The day had taken a toll on them both, and the night had visibly installed worry into Christopher’s mind. Eddie didn’t hate Buck for that. It was nobody’s fault. Chris had a naturally caring heart, it was evident he would feel some sort of obligations towards Buck, to unknown extent. The trauma they shared only reinforced the feeling. Chris owed his life to Buck, and the kid wanted to repay it, whatever way he could. Eddie didn’t want to dwell on the images he had forged in his mind, the two souls he cared about the most being washed away by the anger of the waves. He shook the fake memories off, and braced himself.

“Chris is very observant.” Eddie said. And that felt all wrong. He slapped himself mentally the second the words left his mouth.

“Here we fucking go.” Buck whispered, sighing loudly, reinforcing his grip on the counter behind him.

Eddie’s arms on his chest felt too tight. He was holding himself.

“Evs, don’t be like that,” he answered in return, “What exactly did you expect? We need to talk about whatever the hell is going on with you. A 10-year-old kid had to cheer you up.”

And that, that fucking hurt. Because Buck already felt guilty enough. Eddie knew it, and he knew exactly which button to press to make him talk.

“God Eddie, I know, you don’t need to remind me. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m bringing this here, of all places,” Buck replied, his chest felt constricted “I don’t wanna do this.”

Eddie stood straight, his feet grounded. He was standing tall. He hated the situation and faced it the only way he knew how: like a goddamn boxing match.

“But we’re doing it. I don’t care about what you want right now,” Eddie wanted to sink into the floor. God, he didn’t wanna do this either “I care about your head being in the right place and not having to drag my body around because you’re feeling down.”

“The dragging around part is on you,” Buck counter attacked, blindsided “I never asked that you take my own problems on your back.”

Eddie’s hands closed into fists. He was ready to throw a punch. Bad habits never fully left him.

“Like I had a fucking choice.” he blurted, his jaw locking place.

Buck became defensive, because this wasn’t on him, and he was feeling already guilty enough. He wasn’t about to add this to his mix of self-punishment.

“Don’t you put this shit on me, Eddie,” he spat, his eyes narrowing “You have no right to blame me.”

Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes.

“Jesus Buck, this isn’t what I’m doing,” Eddie shook his head, his eyes opening again, “God you’re-‘

“Exhausting?” Buck cut him off, a look of pure pain and anger washing over his face “Yeah I’ve heard this one before, thank _you_.”

“Stubborn.” Eddie corrected him, tripping over his own guilt. If he had known back then how much this would stick with Buck, he never would have said it. He had apologized for it, but it never seemed enough. Buck had carved the words into his brain. He wouldn’t let them go.

“Yeah, because that’s better” Buck answered, his eyes knocking Eddie down, “Don’t blame me for shit you decide to do.”

Eddie’s mouth fell open in exasperation. He slid a hand through his hair, sighing heavily as he did so.

“Buck for fuck’s sake this isn’t what I’m doing!” he said, trying to control the volume of his voice. He didn’t want to alarm Chris more than they already had.

“Then what the fuck are you trying to say?” Buck let out, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

“That I don’t have a choice in worrying or not when it comes to you,” Eddie gestured towards Buck, his voice low “I worry, it’s like that. It’s always been like that with you.”

Damage control was off the table. Eddie felt like punching something. His heart hated Buck for making him _feel_ , for turning his body into a war zone. And he hated himself for not being able to push all of it down and lock it away. Far fucking away.

“I try not to, believe me, but your fucking feelings they’re just- they rub off on me,” Eddie added “it’s a nice experience, usually. You know, when you’re, well, _you,_ ” Eddie emphasized the last word, gesturing at Buck’s body, his eyes running over it “but today, you’re not the usual you and it sucks. Big time.”

And if felt like the gods were twisting the knife in Buck’s heart. This never seemed to stop. Eddie telling him this again, it made it all somehow worse. Because he wasn’t only feeling like a burden, he was an actual, physical weight for Eddie. And that, well that was a big no. A big _no fucking way._

“I’m sorry, Eds. Shit, I really am cursed.” Buck let out, brushing a hand on his face on exhaustion.

“Stop apologizing. This isn’t your fault, you said it yourself. It’s not mine either. Really if you wanna blame someone, blame love.” Eddie answered, his tongue playing tricks on him, and pushing him over the edge with a majestic blow.

Fuck.

 _Fuck_.

Buck was taken aback, his hand falling from his face carelessly to his side.

 _Fuck_. Eddie felt his entire body go up in flames.

_Damage control, Eddie, now. Damage control._

“You’re my best friend and I love you and I care because you’re my best friend and I love you.” he talked too fast, barely making sense. He tried to compose himself and his arms closed on his chest, again, in a desperate act of protection.

He was fucked. He knew it. He hoped that maybe Buck was gonna salvage whatever was left of their already miserable stability.

He kicked it to the ground instead.

“How’s Ana, Eddie?” Buck asked, his face closing on itself, his body tensing up. His eyes shot daggers into Eddie’s skin.

The phone call he had received earlier made its way back to his brain.

_You’re a really nice guy, Eddie, but you need to figure out what you want. We can’t go on. I can’t go on when you’re so- far away. Your head is somewhere else. Your heart probably is too._

It didn’t even hurt him to hear her say it. He knew she was right. Accepting that she was, that was a whole other story

“It’s over. She ended it.” Eddie explained, his eyes fixed on Buck’s face, not moving an inch. If there was one thing Eddie could find pride in, it was in how good he was at holding eyes contact.

Buck froze, dumbstruck, his own stars seemingly cascading on his head, hurting his skull in the process.

“Good.” was all he let out, his tone suddenly full of resentment for a girl he didn’t even know. His mind had flipped side, unexpectedly.

Eddie jaw tensed up, because Ana had been nothing but good to him, and Buck had no right acting like- well, like whatever _that_ was.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Eddie asked aggressively “this morning you tell me that you want her to like you and now you’re giving her shit?”

Eddie’s back left the counter, his body language wearing his very own _don’t try me_ vibe.

“No, I’m not giving her shit Eddie my god! Why are you always interpreting the things I say?” Buck answered, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation.

“Because you say stuff that can always mean a hundred different things!” Eddie answered in a blur.

“Says you.” Buck laughed bitterly, his hands crossing on his chest.

“What about me?” Eddie wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

And Buck was going there. Oh, he was. He had a thing for flirting with chaos. It was about to ensue, for sure. Creating shit shows was a skill he unwillingly possessed.

“You told me to blame love. How’s that for something that can mean a hundred different things?” Buck answered, his heart giving in.

Silence landed like a punch between the two of them. Buck’s breath was caught in his throat. He could have said nothing, could have kept his thoughts to himself, like he had done oh so many times. Like that time in the kitchen, when _I’d still take you_ had slipped through his lips. He had hoped, for a second there, that Eddie was going to get it. That he was going to understand all the unsaid things that laid with that simple sentence. Because, hell, who even says shit like that to their best friend? And Buck was standing there, feeling like an idiot, because whatever he tried to do, he was all alone. It was like gesturing at someone who couldn’t even see you. Or so he thought.

And Eddie was falling. Faster. And it was a disaster, and he wasn’t even sure he was ever gonna land. He took a step back, his back finding the counter once again. And he was losing attitude. And it wasn’t nice. Bones break, eyes water, skin rips apart. Buck’s eyes achieved the carnage. It was man slaughter. And it was almost unbearable, being looked at like that.

“Don’t. Don’t turn the fucking situation around.” Eddie’s voice was almost a whisper, constricted by the drought of his throat. His steady pulse was long gone. He was all alone.

“Answer me.” Buck said.

And it wasn’t that Buck wanted an answer. It was that he had landed a long time ago, that whatever he felt for Eddie was clear to him. That he had accepted the lingering looks and the unyielding need to touch, to feel, to love and be loved like he never had before. It was an unnerving truth he had learned to be friend with, to encounter every day, when he woke up in the morning and the thoughts of steady hands and brown eyes greeted him. He had leveled with himself, because it was there, and it would be there as long as Eddie was around. And Eddie was always around. It was his greatest tragedy as much as his salvation. There was no escaping it.

And surprisingly, Eddie didn’t run.

“You damn well know what it means.” he admitted, in a whisper.

And it was like a storm. Eddie was a storm, and Buck had no shelter. Raw and exposed. None of them had a shield. They would both lose or win.

"Then _why_ Ana?” Buck asked. His tone was accusatory. It shouldn’t have been, and he knew that, but he was tired. He had thrown caution to the wind.

“Fuck you.” Eddie muttered under his breath, his own pulse echoing in his brain. He was gonna break something if Buck didn’t stop talking. It was too much. It was way too much for a late-night conversation in his kitchen. His body was hurting after the disastrous rhythm of the day. He needed to rest. He needed to think. This wasn’t happening like that.

“Eddie-“

“You know why. You know why you fucking know why.” Eddie cut him short, making his way around the counter, his back facing Buck. He was talking to himself more than he was trying to convince the other man.

Why Ana. Eddie knew why. Ana because. Because he couldn’t handle the truth, the _too much_ , the never-ending longing and the oh-so-violent yearning. The immensity of his love scared him to death. Panic and adoration felt like sisters in his heart.

“Wait. Eddie please,” Buck pleaded, helpless, his back leaving the edge of the sink. He grabbed Eddie’s wrist and turned him around “Please.”

Eddie pulled on his wrist violently, the touch burning his skin. He wasn’t sure he could salvage whatever calm he had left if Buck’s hands were on him. The other man didn’t fight him, letting go, and let his hands fall to his side.

“Don’t just-“ Eddie held his hand up in the space between them, “Don’t.”

Buck took a step back, his heart sinking deeper in his stomach. The rain had started again, violent and merciless. It was ripping him to shreds. He wanted to extend his hand, to allow his fingers to brush just once on Eddie’s face, to know and feel, finally. He wanted to wrap his arms around him, to keep him from running away. He wanted to keep them both steady, to erase the entire day, to go back to his eyes opening up. He wanted to tell himself that no, it wasn’t all falling apart. That it wasn’t all over. It couldn’t be over.

Buck wanted to survive Eddie.

“I can’t lose you.” Buck laid down his deepest truth. In the end, it was pretty simple. Eddie was the rock as much as the storm, and he was the wind and the soft morning sky. He was thunder and he was sunlight, he was every second that stretched between Buck and eternity. He was then, and he was now. It seemed like he would always stand as long as Buck existed. He was blind trust and an evidence. Buck was not ready to let this all go.

Buck was staring helplessly at Eddie, his hands grasping at his side, at the void around him. He didn’t exactly know when his eyes had decided to water, but his blurry vision was proof enough. He couldn’t lose Eddie. He couldn’t let Eddie go.

He loved him. He loved every inch of him.

“Buck.”

He loved him like the ocean loved the moon, like the sun rhymed with the sky. He loved him in hushed words and soundless laughter. He loved him with a heart on in sleeve and gold in his soul. He loved him tender, harsh and brutal.

“Buck.”

It was almost terrifying, a love like that. There was no end to it. It was the breach in space and time, an open door to a greater universe. If love had been a creating force, this one would have given birth to constellations.

“Buck, look at me.”

He loved him without worry and without strain, without envy or without spite. He loved him easily, naturally, effortlessly. He had loved him with his eyes, loved him with his smiles. He loved Eddie the only way he knew how: wholeheartedly.

Careful fingers found their way to Buck’s face. It struck him out of his absent state. His eyes focused on the man before him through his tears. They were falling in harmony. It was a coordinated dance. Even in the heart of chaos and thunder, they echoed each other.

“You’re not losing me.” Eddie managed, his thumb brushing the single tear cascading on Buck’s cheek. His voice was not more than a whisper. But it was enough. It was there. It held the breakable balance of the universe.

Buck’s heart sank deeper, lower. He loved Eddie immensely. He didn’t care how he was loved in return. He wanted to give and give and give again. He wanted to wake up and shout his love at the world. For it was love that made him survive. There and then, he wasn’t alone. Eddie was holding the pieces together.

It was enough. It had always been enough.

“I love you, Eddie.” Buck whispered, pressing his cheek against Eddie’s touch.

Crash.

That was the impact.

Eddie had expected the fall to end, one way or another. And it had. And he was left with open wounds and the feeling of dying. Wherever love blossomed, war was close. Eddie understood it now. He had encountered the battles of the heart first hand. He had been a soldier of many wars, with the world and with himself. This was different. This was an already lost fight.

“I know.” was all he managed before his lips landed on Buck’s, slow and careful.

The landing was lethal. Their love was the destroyer of heart.

If a gesture could have rewritten the world, this would have been it. Buck sighed slowly, deeply, his entire body responding to the touch, the need, the overwhelming need to be seen and felt. His right hand found the side of Eddie’s neck, holding him there, in place, making sure to ground them in the moment. He was almost trembling.

His other hand landed on Eddie’s waist, pulling him in, closer, always closer. Because it was Eddie and he was here, and he was kissing the boy he had loved for what seemed like a never-ending eternity and he wanted to ask the world to stop spinning for a fucking second. A heavy sigh escaped him once again, his lips tasting haven. This felt like a revolution.

Eddie was breaking under his fingers. His hand on Buck’s cheek moved to the back of his head, burying themselves into strands of hair. He was dying. That must have been it. That was what dying was like. His heart giving up and his mind shutting off. His body pressed against Buck’s, unsaid words sliding between the two of them. His left hand found Buck’s chest and pushed him back against the counter. Worlds seemed to collide. Or was it his braincells collapsing on themselves?

A moan escaped Buck’s lips, helpless, breaking. Eddie’s left hand carefully grabbed his throat, slow and cautious, his thumb brushing over the side of Buck’s neck. A storm didn’t even cover it. It was a fucking apocalypse. The sky was crying blood and the earth was opening under his feet.

Eddie leaned back, his lips leaving Buck’s slowly, containing whatever was left of his inner control. He didn’t want to fuck it all up, to ruin their friendship totally. Not yet. Not now. Not with hours of uneasiness on his back.

Buck was catching his breath with difficulty, his eyes moving on Eddie’s face in a hurry. It was like this moment was his last shot, his last chance at capturing every detail Eddie was made of. He flipped them over, giving Eddie his place against the counter. His lips found Eddie’s neck, winning an uncontrolled sigh in return. Rivers of _I love yous_ escaped his mouth, desperately, as he traced the lines under Eddie’s ear, leaving hopeless kisses and lightning on his skin. And Eddie was dying. And Eddie was in love and he couldn’t say it. Not yet. Not now.

Eddie’s hand found its way under Buck’s shirt, feeling the warm skin of his back. It was all too natural. Too easy. It was touches expected for too long. He closed his eyes, taking it all in. Buck’s lips were still working on his neck with care, but his arms had both found their way around Eddie’s body, keeping him close to his chest. Buck was hugging him. Buck was hugging him, and it was the simplest thing in the word. Buck had hugged him many times before. He had wrapped his arms around Eddie whenever he greeted him. It had always been a simple gesture. That night, there, it held more truths and meant more things than ever. It was familiar as much as it was foreign.

Eddie’s heart gave up. His fingers traced patterns on soft skin. He closed his eyes, the side of his head bumping against Buck’s. Buck’s entire body was pressed against his. Eddie lost himself in the feeling, in the strong arms that hold him. His pulse made peace with his head, allowing him to catch his breath. He was regaining control. The landing had cut his skin. His wounds were profound, but not eternal. He would heal.

Buck’s forehead settled on Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie could feel the breathing of the other man slowing down against his skin, the fearful rhythm of Buck’s pulse against his own chest. He started counting.

One. Two. Three.

It was a tempo he had learned by heart.

They stayed there for a while, healing from the fall and the crash together. Soft hands patching up wounded hearts. Eddie traced patterns on Buck’s skin, spelling his love the only way he knew how. Buck seemed to try and press Eddie closer, holding the entire world against his chest. The storm had passed. The rain had stopped.

“We should sleep.” Eddie whispered after a moment, feeling his muscles scream. He was allowing himself to assess the damage. He was exhausted.

Buck didn’t respond, but straightened up instead, taking a step back, his body giving space to Eddie’s. The feeling of instant void they both felt was far from pleasant. Eddie’s eyes were instantly on Buck. The boy was tired, there was no denying it. But he was standing differently than how he had all day. He seemed brighter, bigger. He had stopped making himself small.

And Eddie could begin to feel his worry drift away.

They went to bed, both wearing a pair of Eddie’s basketball shorts. Eddie sat on the edge of the mattress and held his hand out to Buck who was standing at the door, still unsure. Eddie looked at the scene before him, and it felt foreign yet so evident. Their hands found each other, and Buck stopped at the edge of the bed, his eyes on Eddie. His free hand slid through Eddie’s curls, slowly, and he took in the sight before him. His mind, even tired, was working too fast. Eddie noticed. Because Eddie always noticed.

“I know.” Eddie said, evidently reading the other man like an open book.

Buck’s hand fell on Eddie’s face, his thumb brushing his lips slowly. He was stuck in a state of silence, leaving the other man to lay the words out in the open for the both of them.

“Tomorrow,” Eddie said against Buck’s finger, “We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

Buck nodded in return, and was about to climb into bed with Eddie, but he had to ask. He felt like a child for still bringing it up, but he had to ask.

“Have you ever loved her?”

Eddie knew reassurance had always been important for Buck. Words of affirmation was the love language he understood best. It wasn’t Eddie’s strongest suit, but he was trying. For Buck, he was ready to come up with a whole new language.

“No. She deserved more than the incapable love I was trying to provide.” Eddie smiled sadly. Ana was still close to his heart. She was a very lovely soul. But his honest adoration resided somewhere else.

Buck nodded again, his lips pressing a kiss on Eddie’s forehead. Sadness and love.

“She seems like a very nice person.” Buck admitted, with honesty. Because it was true, Ana radiated something beautiful.

“She is.” Eddie confirmed, pulling the other man down on the bed with him. Buck conceded.

Eddie’s mind had hoped, in the depths of some nights, that a strong body would one day lay beside him, warm and tender. It was fantasy, an unreachable possibility that had carved itself on the ceiling of his room. Eddie had battled with it on many occasions. This time, he didn’t have to soldier on.

Buck was trying to reassure himself that his brain wasn’t playing tricks on him. He was lying next to Eddie Diaz, in Eddie Diaz’s bed, wearing Eddie Diaz’s shorts, with Eddie Diaz’s fingers playing mindlessly on his hand between them. It was real. It was too real it couldn’t reach his brain. They were facing each other, Buck’s eyes staring at what seemed to be afterimages of a lucid dream. He feared that if reality kicked in, shadows and dust would be all that remained. But the feeling of Eddie’s fingers tracing the patterns of his palm slowly was real. It didn’t make anything go up in smoke.

“Do you still think the universe doesn’t scream?” Buck whispered, after a while, his mind half aware of his words.

Eddie smiled slowly, his eyes finding Buck’s.

“Care to elaborate?” he answered, his voice matching Buck’s, low and almost drowned in nothingness.

“The universe has been screaming at you all day long,” Buck added, his eyes closing slowly, the weight of the day finally settling in “It screamed that you should kiss me, and you listened.”

Eddie laughed softly, his free hand brushing Buck’s hair away from his forehead.

“I’m pretty sure the universe didn’t tell me anything, my own free will did.” Eddie replied, watching the man he loved slowly drift away.

“It was the universe.” Buck whispered after a pause, his breathing slowing down to a steady rhythm.

He felt at peace. He was falling asleep, safe between the walls he had learned to cherish and the man he had learned to love. The sense of belonging settled in his bones. He loved and was loved. That was more than enough.

Eddie kept tracing the patterns of his palm, open on the pillow. The world went quiet. The balance of their stars was finally regained. Buck drifted away, with thoughts of a child’s laugh and a man’s steady hands in his mind. Eddie listened to the slow rhythm of the other man’s breath. It was the sound of peacefulness. A soundless, welcoming feeling hang over them both.

After a long pause, Eddie pressed a kiss on Buck’s forehead. “Thank god for the universe, then.” he murmured, before closing his eyes.

Seas and oceans felt like enemies in Buck’s soul. He had encountered the anger of the waves. Being frightened by the thought of water had become a habit of his mind. It was inevitable. Drowning was his shameful fear, a nosedive into the void of his terror. The horrors of the abyssal depths had inhabited his nightmares on many occasions. They were cruel, and they were his. Even after months had passed, he would still wake up drenched in sweat, fighting with visions of death and tears. Most nights, Buck was underwater. It wasn’t peaceful. It wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t nice. It was the constant reminder of the past, of the unforgiving ocean.

Now, somebody was here to stand between him and the waves.

The room fell into a profound and tranquil silence. Buck was far, far away. The feeling under his skin was one he had looked for every single day of his life. It was serene. It was love. And it was home.

It was Eddie.

**Author's Note:**

> ana flores should date me, not eddie.  
> @ barnesares on the hellsite twitter


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